


Call Me Maybe

by EstelweNadia



Series: WinterHawk 2017 Valentine Prompts [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blind Date, Kisses from Cupid, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9639065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstelweNadia/pseuds/EstelweNadia
Summary: Prompt: Blind date goes bad for person A, person B to the rescueBucky was adamantly stubborn about not going for blind dates, but was coerced to attend one by Steve's annoying eyes. It all went downhill from there, until suddenly, it became the best thing that had ever happened to him. It gets worse before it gets better, afterall.





	

"Bucky..."

"No."

"But I didn't say anything!"

Bucky let out a disgruntled snort. "You don't have to. Go away, Stevie. I'm not going to any blind dates. You're wasting your time."

"But you forced me to attend one!" Steve pointed out, undeterred.

"Only because you lost that bet," Bucky countered. "And look, now you're happy with Tony, aren't you?" 

"And that's precisely why I need you to go!" Steve threw his hands up in frustration. "Just this once. Why must you be so stubborn?!"

Bucky allowed himself a small smirk despite his obvious irritation. "Hello, Pot. I'm Kettle. You're black."

"Oh, shut up," Steve groused. "That's not the point. The point is..."

"Yeah, yeah, you want me to go on a blind date, because I've sent you to go on one," Bucky cut in impatiently. "Newsflash, Steve: No one is as lucky as you, okay? You've hit the lucky, billionaire jackpot on your first blind date, so congratulations. I'm happy for you. But both you and I know that between the two of us, I'm the one who's always shit out of luck."

"Admitting defeat before you even try isn't like you, Bucky," Steve said sadly, like he was disappointed in him and dammit, Bucky hated it when Steve used that tone. Before Bucky could open his mouth to frame a retort, Steve looked at him, and then Bucky decided that he hated that look more than Steve's disappointed tone. 

"Please, Bucky?"

And that was the final straw. 

"Fine, fine, if I go to your stupid blind date, would you promise to stop bugging me about it?" Bucky glared at his annoying best friend, who nodded frantically and then smartly saluted him with a serious, "Scout's honor!"

Bucky snorted. "You were never a scout, idiot, and for fuck's sake stop giving me that look!"

Steve only blinked owlishly at him in complete bafflement. "What look?"

For a long moment Bucky could only stare at Steve, dumbfounded. He still couldn't decide if Steve was genuinely clueless, or was skillfully faking it. Bucky finally decided that he didn't want to know. 

"Forget it," he shook his head, "Just set me up with somebody so I can quickly get this over and done with, and then you can stop bugging me about it."

Steve looked as if Christmas had come early for him. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. 

* * *

_A weeknight later:_

Bucky found himself seated in a restaurant he had never been before, wearing clothes he had never worn before, waiting for someone he had never seen before. 

How terribly funny. If he wasn't so unsettled, he would laugh at the irony of it all. 

Of all the unknown people entering the restaurant, somehow Bucky's eyes zeroed in onto one particular portly person, in a pressed suit, bright yellow hair and flinty eyes. 

Bucky prayed with all his heart to all existing and non existing deities that please, please, please don't make that man be the one he was supposed to meet tonight. 

Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, his fervent prayers went unanswered. The gods must be watching with imminent glee as tht man made a beeline to where Bucky was. 

"I'm Ronald Drum, and are you the one I've been set up to see?"

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but the man just sat himself from across Bucky and just plowed onwards, "James, right? Funny, you don't look like a James to me. What do you work as, anyway?"

"I..."

"Probably a mechanic or some delivery guy," Ronald shrugged, flipping open the menu and began to browse through it disinterestedly. "Why can't they ever match me with someone of my caliber? The way the agency set me up with blind dates is horrendous, I'm telling you. I almost think that they are trying to sabotage me in a way... By the way what would you like to have? I am so hungry. Been too busy to eat a proper meal today. Endless meetings, but zero results. It's hard to get your ideas across people who aren't on your wavelength. It's not only hard, it's frustrating. You ever experienced that before?"

"Actually..."

"I don't think so," the man huffed, "You don't even have to think or decide things. You only have to follow and execute what your higher ups tell you to. Isn't that right?"

That hit a little too close to home. The man continued talking but now his words just sounded like white noise to Bucky's roaring ears. Suddenly Bucky didn't care about Steve's stupid eyes and stupid blind dates with pompous people who loved the sound of their voice too much to even let him speak. He wanted out of this stupid place, head to the nearest bar and drink himself stupid to end this stupid night. 

"Bucky?" 

The voice was unfamiliar, but the name it uttered yanked Bucky out of his dark reverie. Surprised, Bucky looked up, and Ronald finally stopped talking to gape at the new arrival. 

The stranger had the prettiest grey blue eyes Bucky had ever seen, half obscured by messy dirty blonde hair that apparently refused to be tamed. He had band-aids across his nose and one on his jaw and as he sheepishly reached out to rub the back of his neck in a gesture of awkwardness, Bucky noticed more band-aids wrapped around his fingers. 

Other than Steve, this man might be the most tragic man Bucky had ever seen but...

Holy cow, those shoulders and biceps... 

And he's only wearing a purple shirt that definitely had seen better days and washes from the way it fit snugly around his, oh wow, impressive torso. He finished his outfit with a well-worn jeans and a pair of purple Converse shoes. 

"Uh, I'm Clint?" The man looked and sounded so uncertain Bucky actually felt sorry for him. "I'm supposed to meet my blind date tonight? His name is Bucky... You're Bucky, right?"

Suddenly Bucky didn't care how the man knew his nickname. He would gladly play along if it could get him away from the Ronald Donald Drum Trump whathisname. 

"Yes, I'm Bucky!" Bucky surged up from his seat, smiling so widely it hurt his cheeks. He caught sight of Ronald's stymied face and it was all he could do not to laugh. "Where have you been? I've waited ages for you! Do you know that I bargained with Stark to let me off early so I could get here in time to meet you? Being a personal security consultant in Stark Industries, to Stark himself, is tough work, you have no idea."

The look on Ronald's face was priceless. Bucky mentally clapped himself on his back. _Hah, take that you sonuvabitch._  

"You're right; I have no idea," Clint agreed, "But I can understand your situation, since I also work as a security consultant in SHIELD, and I was recruited personally by the Director himself." There was a note of pride in his voice, and Clint looked so proud of himself that Bucky internally went _aww_ without meaning to. "C'mon Bucky, let's get out of here. I have a better place in mind."

Bucky was all too happy to leave the jerk behind. He was even happier to follow Clint from behind, because the view Clint presented him was spectacular. 

Once they reached the parking lot, Bucky couldn't help but ask the burning question, "How do you know my name is Bucky? My nickname, that is."

Clint looked embarrassed. "I don't. It's just a freaky coincidence. The only name I had in mind back then was Lucky, my dog's name, but I can't possibly call you that because you are obviously not Lucky, so I did the next best thing - I substituted the L with a consonant that I could think of at the moment, which is B," He ended with a sheepish grin, and again, with the rubbing-the-back-of-his-neck thing.

Then Bucky came to realize something.

"That's right. I'm always shit out of luck, so I'm obviously not Lucky. I'm Bucky." He burst out laughing at his own joke, feeling enlightened just the same. 

Clint just stared at him, uncomprehending, but he still broke into a tiny smile of amusement. Nonetheless, he dug something out from his pocket and handed a rumpled piece of paper to Bucky. 

"Hey, I just met you," Clint was saying, "And this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe?"

"Nah," Bucky answered after a beat, noticing how Clint's face fell, then he grinned, finishing his sentence, "I'll call you Clint."

And he definitely would. 

Bucky whistled happily all the way home. 

 


End file.
